


Disintegration

by Usetheladiesroom



Series: Time To Pretend [1]
Category: Black Mirror
Genre: Anal Sex, Coercion, Come as Lube, Humiliation, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Rough Sex, Suicidal Thoughts, There's Also A Brief Mention Of Walton Getting Fucked By A Tentacle Monster, among other things, i'm so sorry y'all, so there's that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 18:35:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13417191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Usetheladiesroom/pseuds/Usetheladiesroom
Summary: It was cruel, and there was just something not right in the way that the other man looked at him; but he couldn't discern what was exactly wrong until the words, "Exit game," had left Robert's lips and the man disappeared into thin air.It was then that he knew that he was completely and utterly screwed; because somehow, in some way, shape, or form; he was inside Infinity.(Set during the early days when it was just Captain Daly and his trusty Lieutenant Walton aboard the USS Callister; and although the show 'Space Fleet,' takes place in a wholesome universe, the one that Daly had made for himself did not start out that way.)





	Disintegration

**Author's Note:**

> This is horrible, disgusting, and really long, and I have all the regrets :0
> 
> So yeah, I've been working on this ever since I saw the episode last week and I'm glad I wasn't the only one who thought the dynamic between Walton and Daly was fic-worthy (major kudos to all y'all who have been writing for them, and this episode in general; you guys rock!!)
> 
> With that said, I'm not the best at writing but I tried my best with this! I'd say the beginning was its strongest point, but the ending could've used some more work, but that's for you guys to decide. 
> 
> Also, since this is, more or less, from Walton's perspective, I used their first names instead of the alternative because I felt it'd just make things a bit more personal, in a way.

Days come and go as far as James knows, but he cannot truly feel the passage of time as night and day cease to exist within the vacuum of space. It's been so fucking long since he's actually cared about trying to escape; so long since he's thought about seeing his boy again, because the very thought is painful to him; and now - now he feels numb. The drinks on the shelf don't really do much for him, but he's tricked himself into thinking they do for his own sanity's sake as he sits in his chair surrounded by various bottles of booze as he takes a swig from something he can't even pronounce. Ah yes, he's numb to almost everything alright. That is, except for whenever the comforting blue that shrouds the ship in near darkness is suddenly replaced by warm light as the tacky colors of the ship's control panels become visible once more. That's when a jolt of complete and utter fear fills his entire core with dread. Because when the lights come on, so does _him_.

Robert fucking Daly.

The pathetic unsuspecting nerd of a CTO that he had roped into building a multi-billion dollar empire with, was actually a major fucking psychopath. When he had first woken up in this godforsaken place, he had thought that it was all just some kind of sick joke. And hell, he had even went along with it, albeit rather sarcastically, at first; as Robert strutted in, dressed like his favorite character from that stupid tv show of his, as he ordered him around using the most ridiculous over the top accent that he could muster that frankly made him sound like a complete idiot. He had thought that Robert was fucking with him, and that they'd laugh it all off when it was all over and done with; but it never stopped.

Instead, after what had seemed like hours following the bastard's every whim, and he had just been about done with dealing with said bastard's bullshit, Robert had suddenly turned around and gave him a rather cryptic smile. It was cruel, and there was just something not right in the way that the other man looked at him. It immediately stopped him mid-protest, but he couldn't discern what was exactly wrong until the words, " _Exit game_ ," had left Robert's lips and the man disappeared into thin air. It was then that he knew that he was completely and utterly screwed; because somehow, in some way, shape, or form, he was inside Infinity. He was inside the very game that he and Robert had brought to life; and although he would've liked to have taken all the credit, this was clearly Robert's baby, and Robert's baby alone, and he was essentially left alone in the dark.

He had initially freaked out, as is custom when you find yourself trapped within your own game; and after several bouts of denial along with a hearty slew of escape attempts, he had accepted his fate. But the very idea of actually being a digital clone of his real self had not occurred to him as quickly, and he had spent the coming days foolishly trying to assert his authority over Robert, only for the other man to pin him against the wall with whatever powers he had in-game to keep him still as he explained his entire situation to him in a slow, condescending manner. Over and over, Robert did this; continuously beating the fact that he wasn't real, and that no one was going to come and rescue him because there was no one to save, into the back of his head - until finally, it stuck.

Nevertheless, even after that bombshell of a discovery had been made, he didn't stop trying to get the upper hand on Robert, not even for a second. In fact, it had only encouraged him to make Robert's life even more of a living hell; but he had been so stupid back then. He knows his place now, but by God, he should've just submitted to Robert when he had the fucking chance. Because from then on, every time he had tried to say something smart; every time he disobeyed an order, or he just couldn't improvise on the spot, Robert punished him. It started out easily enough with a simple slap to the face, or sometimes, a kick to his nonexistent groin, if he was lucky. But soon enough, things began to escalate rather quickly when, one day, Robert just couldn't get his jollies out of kicking his face in anymore, and he intermittently opted to do the unthinkable; he raped him. He didn't think the guy had it in him. He had at least thought, that for all the things that Robert could resort to, that rape wouldn't even be close to one of them; but he had obviously been wrong about that.

He can still remember it - the first time it had happened. He had been in the middle of preparing for Robert's arrival by practicing his supposed character's outrageously timid responses for when they would eventually find the villain of the week, when Robert had barged in without warning. He wasn't sure what had warranted it; maybe his real self had gone a bit overboard with being a dick that day, or maybe something had gone wrong with an update to the game, or maybe - maybe Robert just couldn't get fucking laid. Whatever the case, when Robert had stalked onto the bridge that fateful day, he had no longer held the veneer of captain friendly. Gone was that sickeningly smug smile that he always bore whenever he was in character, and in its stead was a frown, along with a head of unkempt hair that made him look absolutely feral. Robert had been the very embodiment of untethered rage, and when he had tried to break the tension by giving the man his usual greeting aboard the ship, Robert had immediately glared at him, and something inside James had told him right than and there to run; but it had been too late, and before he could even form a single word in his defense, Robert had plunged them both into black nothingness, and he had had his way with him.

Meetings in the void are the only times Robert gets the satisfaction of hearing him beg. He begs for Robert to stop; he begs for Robert to listen to reason; and oh, he begs for alot of things. But Robert never relents, not even once.

The best he can hope for, on any given day, is for Robert to make him suck his dick and that can be the end of it; but that's not always the case. In the void, Robert makes him endure the most heinous and vile things that he can think of - from relentless gangbangs from the mannequin-like NPCs that make up most of Robert's so-called 'crew,' to the repulsive creatures that Robert conjures up on the spot that wrap their tendrils around his wrists while they force their tentacles deep inside him, cold and unforgiving, as they leave behind what Robert likes to call _presents_ when all is said and done. Sometimes its massive amounts of alien semen that makes his stomach expand, and sometimes its eggs that he has to manually push out with Robert's permission. Sex has never seemed so vile to him as it does now, but no matter how humiliating each scenario that he's forced into is, he'd rather endure it all if it meant that he didn't have to deal with Robert's dick inside him; because unlike the creatures that Robert creates, Robert is real. Robert knows what he's doing is wrong - he has to, but instead of being disgusted by his own actions, he revels in it like the sick son of a bitch that he is.

At least with the others, Robert simply keeps to himself, watching him get torn apart by his creations with almost bored fascination as he sits in his captain's chair; the only thing that he keeps from the ship when he removes the rest of the world around them. He only gives an occasional remark when he isn't the one that is doing the taking; but when it is time for him to take, he gives it his all, in every sense of the word.

They never return to the ship when it's Robert's turn, because that would defeat the very purpose of the void, and he wouldn't want to defile his beloved Space Fleet's wholesome code, oh no - instead, Robert creates another room that is not unlike a honeymoon suite that you'd find in any four-star hotel in a sick attempt to make things romantic. After he does this, Robert always reiterates to him that he doesn't deserve any of the so-called grandeur that he had set up, and than recites some kind of cheesy ass script in his head that he swears to God is from the bastard's stupid TV show as he always tends to blather on about how they need to resolve the tension between them or some shit before he finally gets to the point and just pulls his dick out of his pants and forces it inside. Occasionally there's lube, and if there is, it's mainly for Robert's benefit more than anything; but usually he just slides in dry and makes the whole thing as painful as possible for him, because that's what Robert likes.

Robert just loves to see him in pain; gets off on the obvious humiliation and shame that he makes him feel whenever they do this as tears run down his face. It's the reason why they always face each other whenever Robert fucks him; so Robert can look him in the eyes when he isn't caught up in his own pleasure, and he, in turn, is forced to look at his rapist as the man thrusts into him over and over again, non-stop. And the thing that makes things even worse, is the fact that Robert likes to talk; the man says the most despicable things to him when he fucks him - sometimes it's praise intermixed with degradation, and sometimes he just tells him how worthless he is as he constantly reminds him that he's to be trapped in this world forever - and that he simply doesn't matter - as he continues to whisper shit in his ear like a lover would. There are other things that Robert says to him, but he'd rather not mention them now for fear of accidentally retching whatever liquor he still has coursing through his veins onto the steel-laden floor.

After Robert comes, the room vanishes, and they always end up back on deck, fully clothed, as Robert prepares to exit the game. Sometimes the other man will make some remark that he thinks is sly, but more often than not he'll just leave them in comforting silence as Robert fumbles with his PDA, and he sits himself down and pours himself another drink as his sore ass seals itself up, back into a wholesome mound of flesh, with the reminder that he'll always feel Robert inside him, whether the man is there or not.

-

With a sigh, James takes another swig out of a bottle of straight-up poison, letting himself smile for a brief moment as he can already feel the effects of the drink's toxins take its course; and it feels invigorating. It won't kill him, of course, but a guy can always dream, can't he?

Slouching in his chair, James rests there for a few more seconds until his morbid sense of bliss is interrupted by the thrumming of the ship's engine and the lights as they begin to flicker, signalling the arrival of the ship's not-so illustrious captain - and his heart, as it begins to race. Quickly scooping up as many bottles as he can carry, James rushes towards the drink cabinet to place them back where they belong as he curses himself for drinking out of so many. However, in the end, he isn't able to clean his station up in time as the doors slide open, and Robert strolls on in with a huge grin on his face.

"Lieutenant, afternoon," Robert greets him rather absentmindedly as he is more preoccupied by his beloved PDA at the moment. With Robert distracted, James manages to slip two more bottles back onto the shelf; but before he can return the final bottle back to its place in the cabinet, Robert's grin falters, and he realizes then that he had forgotten to answer Robert's greeting with his own as the other man turns his head and immediately spots James in the corner, bottle in hand.

"Slacking on the job, eh, Walton?" Robert sneers, the tone of his voice beginning to take on a slight edge to it; and James knows, in that exact moment, that he's already fucked things up. Biting his lip, James slides the last bottle back onto its place in the shelf before closing the cabinet altogether. To make himself look more presentable, he smooths back his hair, and takes a second to wipe his mouth, before he, rather reluctantly, picks his head up and meets Robert's condemning gaze.

"I'm so sorry, Captain! Please forgive me, I had not been expecting you to come back so soon," James confessed, trying in vain to apologize all while trying to keep his bottom lip from quivering in the face of the sheer anxiety he felt from the situation at hand. It's pathetic, really; but at the same time it's also something that Robert would definitely get a kick out of, and so maybe a show of weakness might do well in his favor. However, as fate would have it, luck just wasn't on his side today.

"You weren't expecting me, you say?" Robert reiterates, hand on his hip as his fingers thrum against his side in an agitated manner, "Then how do you suppose the rest of the crew knew that my arrival was clearly imminent?" He gestures towards said _crew_ with a wave of his hand, the unmoving dolls seated stock still at their stations; a constant reminder that James was utterly alone in his situation, and that he virtually had no one on-board that could stick up for him otherwise. "While you slouched about drinking your booze, these fine men and women have been hard at work, and all you have to say for yourself is that you're sorry? That isn't going to suffice, Lieutenant."

Robert then proceeds to make his way over to him, walking at a deliberately slow pace like a predator closing in on its prey. It's enough to make James' body begin to shake of its own accord as the proximity between them grows smaller and smaller until Robert has him backed against the wall, scrambling to get away until he admits defeat as the other man's shiny boots touch the tips of his own, confirming just how close they truly are. Taking his chin between his thumb and his forefinger, Robert forces him to look up into his beady eyes, dark and soulless, as the other man continues to loom over him.

"You know what this means, don't you, Walton?" Robert asks in the form of a whisper, breath hot and heady against his skin, as it's followed by a not-so subtle swipe of his tongue against his greasy, plump lips.

"Please, Captain," James practically cries out in exasperation, "It's still so early in the day, and-"

" _Walton_."

James allows himself the luxury to swallow as he accepts the fact that there was no way he could talk Robert down from any of this. "Yes, Captain. I know exactly what this means," he admits with a forced smile; fingers trembling at his sides, as his heart pounds harder than it has any right to, along with a side of tears as they begin to well up in his eyes. And Robert's smile grows even wider at the sight.

"Good boy."

Before pulling away, Robert gives James a quick pat on his cheek; and with a raise of his hand, the world around them disappears, and James knows what's about to happen next. And so, with tears now trailing down the planes of his cheeks, he closes his eyes, and braces himself for the inevitable.

After creating their designated room that garishly clashes against the black void that surrounds them whole, Robert rather excitedly pushes James inside, letting the door shut behind them. Robert then begins to recite his opening monologue, which James drowns out in favor of lying face down on the bed and getting himself into position. It isn't for the main act itself; rather it's so that he can get at least somewhat comfortable before _it_ finally happens. Which, it does, shortly after he tucks his knees and pulls his pants down to reveal the fleshy mound of skin underneath.

No matter how many times he goes through this, he will never get used to the feeling of his ass spreading itself apart as his hole returns, stretching itself open into existence from the crease between his cheeks. It's naturally an odd feeling on it's own, but when he feels something begin to leak out from the crack, he instantly feels sick to his stomach because it's only then that he realizes that he's still filled to the brim with Robert's come from last time.

It drips and flows, trying to escape after having been stored away for so long, but to no avail, as Robert pushes some of it back in with his thumb and laughs when his ass involuntarily clenches and even more seems to drizzle out. James wants to gag, to throw up, but instead he just grits his teeth, and swallows the bile rising in his throat as Robert gets even more handsy with his ass; kneading it like one would when making bread, and catching his fingers on the rim to let even more come ooze out before thick fingers are replaced by the man's obvious erection; barely restrained by the confines of his uniform pants.

"My, oh my, are you filthy, Walton. Absolutely filthy," Robert remarks, clearly stating the obvious, and it makes James flush even more with embarrassment. With a smirk, Robert reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a small tube, shaking it in front of James' face for the other man to see. "And look, I even had the heart to bring lube this time around, but I guess we won't be needing that now. Isn't that right, Walton?"

James doesn't reply, as he's too busy trying not to throw up onto the satin sheets. This, of course, does not go unnoticed by Robert, as the other man raises his hand and brings it down across James' ass, causing him to yelp from the sudden pain.

"Answer the question," Robert snarls, digging his nails into the meat of his thigh.

"Th-That's right," James manages to stammer out.

"And why is that?"

"It's because...I'm - I'm dripping with it, sir."

"That is correct!" Robert bellows enthusiastically, making a show out of throwing the tube over his shoulder. But instead of mourning its absence, James is left with an overwhelming amount of resignation that has him simply roll his eyes at Robert's juvenile antics. Making quick work of his belt, Robert then pulls his pants down to reveal his equally hard and repulsive cock; lining it up against James for just a moment, as the head nudges past the rim to allow more come to spill out, coating the man's length in full.

"Turn over, Lieutenant," Robert orders, and James complies the best he can as he maneuvers himself onto his back with the little space that Robert has given him to do so. He spreads his legs and clenches his teeth, wishing that the fucking bastard above him would just take his mouth away so that he wouldn't have to worry about controlling his tongue, but it's of no use; now that Robert is in the middle of pulling his waist impossibly closer to his own, and aligning himself to his overly-abused hole once more. Biting the inside of his cheek, James openly glares at Robert as the other man reaches down to grip his face, forcing him to look up at him as he abruptly shoves his dick inside, causing James to turn his head away so that he could properly cry out in agony.

It's bigger today; bigger than the last time he had taken him, and he almost laughs at the mere idea that Robert was just feeling so goddamn insecure about his small dick today at work, that he just had to compensate for his low self-esteem somehow. That thought, however, dies, as Robert begins to fuck him at a relentless pace, jolts of pain consistently shooting up his spine with every push and thrust that rocks his body whole. Robert's leftovers may have slicked him up quite a bit for what it's worth, but without the proper fingering, it's really of no use except for an occasionally smooth slide here and there that's just really uncomfortable, at best. Soon enough, Robert's thrusts become even more erratic; a sign that the asshole is already close, and so he props himself up on his elbows and silently goads the fucker to just come already so he can return to nursing a bottle of scotch alone in the depths of virtual space.

Except, Robert doesn't come; at least, not when he should have. Instead, Robert gradually slows his pace down until his dick is lazily dragging against his insides, making him feel every single tug that leaves him squirming desperately against the mattress. The utter dejection he feels now knows no bounds as Robert continues to prolong his suffering, and he almost lets out a groan just to cause some kind of reaction from the man that isn't so slow and deliberate.

"There's something that I want," Robert muses, pulling out just enough to tightly grip the base of his dick; calloused knuckles grazing James' skin.

"...And what is that - sir?" James urges exhaustively, rolling his eyes as he expectantly waits for Robert to answer.

"I want you - to tell me that you love me." This causes James' eyes to get as wide as they physically can as confusion and disgust intermix, filling his very being with immediate panic and unease. He can say alot of things for Robert's benefit - from telling him how much he loves the man's cock, even though he feels the exact opposite, to telling him to fuck him harder just so he can get back to drinking his sorrows away. But whatever Robert wants him to say now, he finds himself unable to do so; because he can't, for the life of him, differentiate whether this is an honest to God power move, or if this is something extremely personal in Robert's eyes.

"I-I ca-" James starts to reply, but before he can finish, Robert interrupts him, placing one of his grubby hands on his hip.

"Is that a no, Walton?" Robert interjects with a grimace of pretend shock, but there's something that darkens in his expression that James can't discern as to whether it's outright anger or blatant rejection as the man's thumb digs into the blank canvas that lies just below his stomach. "Because if it is, than how would you feel if I gave you back your penis for good. I know how much you absolutely loathe our time together, and me, for that matter, but y'know, I can always makes things alot more worse, if I really wanted to. Like, perhaps, how you're feeling right now; I could make it so that you'd find what i'm doing to you pleasurable, whether you like it or not. It would take some time, of course, but it will happen eventually, and you'll see for yourself just how easy it is for your own body to betray you."

James gasps in horror as even more tears trickle down from his eyes: because he knows Robert would do it. The fucker would actually go through with it, and there would be nothing that he could do about it; and he'd rather endure the constant pain and abuse that Robert inflicts on him on a daily-basis than to suffer from the alternative.

"N-No," James stutters, "Please - Please don't."

"What was that?" Robert taunts, "Are you begging?"

He repeats himself, even louder this time, and Robert, in a rare instance, decides to take pity on him. Gripping his hair, and forcing his head back, Robert tells him to do what he had asked of him once more, and all James can do is fervently nod in agreement as he reaches a hand up to his face to wipe away the excess amount of snot and tears that had accumulated there thanks to his constant sobbing. It reminds him of when he was a kid, oddly enough, since he had always been one to just let the shit run down his face whenever he got in trouble with his parents, and he covertly lets out a bitter chuckle at the memory. But he isn't a kid anymore, he's an adult; a parent even, and Tommy - Tommy, his fucking pride and joy, does the exact same thing when he cries. And oh God, he fucking misses him. He misses his boy so fucking much, and his heart aches from not being able to see him, to hold him, to tell him that he loves him and - this is why he puts up with Robert's shit, isn't it? It's a realization that comes to him every now and again when he's at his lowest, and this time is no exception as a wave of unbridled determination hits him. He needs to do the best that he can, if not for himself, than to just see Tommy again; by any means necessary.

And so, with a shuddering sigh, James looks Robert straight in the eye, and attempts to play the part that the other man wants him to as he encircles his arms around his captor's neck and invitingly licks his lips.

"I," James begins, but he has to stop before he chokes on his words and lets himself take a deep breath before continuing, "I-I love you."

"Good," Robert murmurs. "Now say it again, but with my name this time."

"You mean-"

"Yes."

James clears his throat, and bites down the uncertainty he currently feels as he hasn't called Robert by his first name ever since the man had made it clear from the get go that he was to be addressed by his title of Captain, and not the other way around.

"I love you...Robert."

The way he ends up saying it comes out in a confused manner but apparently that isn't what Robert hears, and the man gives him a pleased smile in response. And it works. It fucking works, and James has to let out a sigh of relief as Robert starts to move again, returning to his brutal pace, and all James can really do is writhe against the bed, gripping the sheets tightly in his grasp as his head starts to spin. The air is filled with Robert's incessant moaning, as well as the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, and it makes him feel downright nauseous, but he presses on anyway.

After a few seconds, or minutes, as he can't really tell at this point, James begins to feel something warm trail down his inner thighs, and he wonders whether it's either blood or come. It wouldn't be the first time he had been fucked so hard that he started bleeding, and it certainly won't be the last at this rate. It's not the sort of thing he notices immediately, as it's usually Robert who points it out first, but sometimes, whenever he does notice it, he likes to think at that very moment that he's just losing alot of blood. _Oh boy, is Robert going to fuck him to death? Would he even dare? I sure hope so!_ But Robert never does, because as long as his real self is out there, he will remain; and it's times like these that he wishes for death the most.

It turns out that it is come in the end; and judging by the way that Robert is panting, and how even more of the fluid is spilling out of him right now, he supposes that the man had finally shot his fucking load and he didn't even notice that he had already pulled out until just now. It's a cause for celebration, really, but he's just too worn out to feel any joy at all. Robert seems to have taken this simple luxury from him as well, it seems, and James is left to listen to his own unhurried breathing as he watches the other man pull his own pants up from the far side of the room.

Taking a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow, Robert returns, grabbing ahold of James' face to make him look up once more. "See? All you have to do is comply, and no harm will ever have to come to you. And for your compliance today-" there's a brief pause before Robert continues, and James, even in his delirious state, can tell that Robert has made his mind up about something, but what exactly, he can't tell. "I'm even going to reward you for a job well done. Now what do we say?"

"Th -Tha-"

"Speak clearly, Lieutenant."

"...Thank you."

Robert smirks, turning away before raising his hand and snapping his fingers, causing the room around them to shake and disassemble until there's a flash, and they are instantly back on board the USS Callister. James doesn't even try to be in character for Robert's departure, as his legs weigh him down until he hits the ground and stays there, content with lying against the cool mixture of marble and steel that decorate the ship's floor. He will no doubt curl in on himself later and cry himself hoarse as he reminisces over the past, but as for right now, the only thing that's on his mind is the reward that Robert had promised him. It could be another surprise beating, which it probably is for all he knows, but now his curiosity is piqued and a wave of hope hits him that makes him think that maybe, just maybe, things could turn out in his favor for a change.

**Author's Note:**

> And the reward ends up being Tommy. And we all know how well that goes. :/
> 
> (I shall edit this later, after I get some rest, but it probably won't make this horrible fic better by any means lol)
> 
> And now, if you'll excuse me, I shall work on finishing up the next chapter of my Regan fic before any of my peeps over there come over here to ask questions lol

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Betrayal](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13770615) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account)




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